


Self-control

by unfortunateluck



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Awkward Boners, Boners, Challenges, Competition, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, In Public, M/M, One Direction Tours, Orgasm Denial, Roughness, Touring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 21:54:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfortunateluck/pseuds/unfortunateluck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like, he actually had to muster up some sliver of self-control and step away.</p><p>But Harry Styles was an absolute stunning and fit bastard.</p><p>And Zayn was never good at self-control.</p><p>In which Harry and Zayn compete to see who will lose control first on stage. And the candy thongs thrown on stage and twitter questions are not helping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self-control

He needed to stop.

Like, he actually had to muster up some sliver of self-control and step away.

But Harry Styles was an absolute stunning and fit bastard.

And Zayn was never good at self-control.

He quit smoking, then started again.

And Harry was worse than cigarettes. Definitely more addictive.

* * *

"Winner gets a blow job," Harry mutters softly, his lips just brushing against Zayn's ear.

And by winner, Zayn knows Harry means whoever goes longest on stage without getting a hard-on.

"Harry," Zayn sighs but the sigh turns to a shudder as Harry nips the bottom of his ear.

"Scared I'll beat you? Again?" 

Zayn can literally _feel_ Harry smirking. 

"Please, Zayn?"

"Fine," the older boy finally reluctantly gives in. ( _Okay, not really. He loved the game. He just liked to make Harry beg_.)

"Maybe you'll learn self-control from this round," Harry chirps, punctuating his sentence with a slap on Zayn's ass as he saunters towards his stage mark.

"Bastard," he mumbles before following the head of curls

* * *

"And now for the last twitter question!" Harry exclaims loudly, his eyes flickering from Zayn to the screen.

"Maria wants to know," he reads, a grin sliding over his lips. "'What is your favorite dessert?'"

Niall, as usual, gives some food-loving charming little answer.

Louis says something clever.

Harry makes eye contact with Zayn and clears his throat.

"My favorite are popsicles," he begins (and Zayn can _feel_ where this is going). "I love how they're all _hard_ and _wet_ when you put them in your mouth."

The audience goes wild with the shivers of innuendo and Liam sends Harry a slightly-amused glare.

"They really require some _tongue_ skills. They're delicious."

Zayn can feel his dick twitch and he's absolutely sure Harry notices.

* * *

Harry can feel Zayn moving closer to him as the song plays out.

He watches Zayn smirk and drop his microphone, right at Harry's feet.

"Whoops, _sorry_ ," he mouths, not looking sorry at all.

Harry doesn't move. 

Zayn bends over, purposefully bending all the way so Zayn's ass is nearly level with Harry's crotch.

Harry purses his lips and raises an eyebrow.

"Got it," Zayn decides, grasping the microphone as he slowly gets back up, his jawline brushing against Harry's crotch.

Harry hopes Zayn doesn't notice that his jeans got a bit tighter.

* * *

 

Someone threw a candy thong on stage.

A thong. Made of candy.

At this point in the show, the duo were ravenous.

Harry's hip thrusting during Rock Me was not helping.

The twitter questions were not helping.

Zayn's eye-level with Harry's crotch as he bent over to pick up the microphone he "accidentally" dropped was not helping either.

But now, one of the girls in the audience had thrown the candy thong on stage.

He watches Harry pick up the cellophane packet and amusedly slide the candy on over his trousers.

Zayn thinks he finally found his key to winning.

* * *

"You into that shit?" Zayn shifts his microphone from his sleeve so the crowd can't hear-- _only Harry and the lads can_.

Harry does the same.

"I've got kinks. Just messing around."

"Messing around?" Zayn watches as Harry plops down on the stage, rolling his shoulders.

The other boys contiue giving speeches or whatever, Zayn ignores them.

He gets down on his knees in front of Harry.

"You wouldn't," Harry pauses.

He _wouldn't,_ no way.

Maybe Louis would do something like this and Harry probably would but Zayn... _Zayn_ never gets like this on stage. He's not a public sort of guy.

Harry lets out a breath of air as Zayn pulls at the candy with his tongue, keeping eye contact with Harry as he bites a piece off.

And another piece.

And another piece.

And Harry doesn't move.

The audience is probably filming this and crying, but Zayn doesn't care.

"Mmm," Zayn pulls the elastic with his teeth, biting off a strawberry candy.

The elastic snaps back onto Harry's hip and Harry's pants are tighter than ever.

_"Delicious."_

* * *

"Can't believe you did that."

"Shut up and get to work," Zayn cockily folds his arms behind his head as he lies flat on the dressing room couch.

"That was fucking hot," Harry works at unbuckling Zayn's belt as he mulls over what had happened just ten minutes ago. 

"Wish I'd saved the rest of that."

"We can always buy more," Harry muses, sliding down the older boy's jeans and boxers with one tug.

Harry ignores his own painfully hard member and focuses on what's in front of him.

"I promised a blow job," Harry decides to fuck with Zayn. He hated losing. "But I never promised I wouldn't do anything else."

" _Mate_ ," Zayn let's out a tired sigh that quickly turns into a moan as Harry starts to grind his covered erection down onto Zayn.

The stiff fabric of Harry's jeans hurts a little bit, but Zayn is loving the friction. But Zayn hates to mess around.

He wants to get to it.

"Fuck, Harry, come on," Zayn whines, gasping as Harry presses down harder.

" _Come_ on what?" Harry jokes, laughing at himself. "Where do you want me to come?"

"Bastard," Zayn is painfully hard at this point and he just wants to get this done so he can _sleep_.

He starts to sit up, shoving Harry off of him as he switches positions.

Harry's stronger than Zayn, but Harry goes along and watches with mischevious amusement.

"Now fucking take me," Zayn growls, lining his erection up with Harry's mouth.

Harry obeys, palming himself through his jeans.

He hollows out his cheeks, wincing only slightly as Zayn hits the back of his throat.

"And for fucking around, you're going to swallow it, too," Zayn groans, thrusting into Harry's lips as he braces himself on the sofa's arm.

Harry moans around Zayn's cock in response, swirling his tongue around the tip.

And that's enough to send Zayn over the edge.

Harry almost chokes because of the angle in which he was lying, but to his credit he managed to swallow a good amount.

Zayn climbs off of Harry and grabs his afore discarded boxers.

Harry's crotch is _throbbing_ at this point. He needs to get off, like _now_.

"Hope you enjoyed that," Harry smiles that shit-eating smile that Zayn hates and loves. "But I'm going to enjoy myself now for a second."

Zayn watches Harry wince as he slides down his jeans, and then boxers.

"Really, mate? Can't get a room?"

"As if _you_ mind," Harry snorts, head tilting back in ecstasy as his hand slides up and down his length.

Zayn feels guilty for being so rough with Harry and he _kind of_ wants to get in on this.

"Let me do it," Zayn sighs, reaching over and wrapping his hand over Harry's.

"Even when you win, I win. You're a softie at heart," Harry grins, letting out a soft moan as Zayn gives a soft tug.

 _"Bastard._ "

"No self-control, Zayn."

And with a few more tugs, Harry has no self-control either.


End file.
